what about

About Pumpkins:
 
The small orange creatures were sitting on our windowsills for weeks. They were “cute” in all their petite and punky attitudes. And then one day, it was time to break them open and find out all the secrets they had been hiding.
 
Marina and I were new to pumpkin carving. How do we put the knife in? I tried to google all that I could about the philosophy of carving. It all seemed entirely too intense.
 
We picked out the sharpest knife with little teeth like a saw. And we squealed as we entered the orangeness. And we yelped as we tried to pull of the lid. The process of spooning out all the insides was entirely too daunting. Who knew pumpkins had so many secrets? Who knew pumpkins had so many seeds? The never ending gushy orange web was neverending!
 
Eventually we came to the best part. The carving. Marina and Liz made faces and I tried to be different, cause Im crazy like that, and made a bat! Judge for yourselves, ladies and gentlemen:

 
About Russian Parties:
 
Marina and I were invited to a Russian party, by her friend Zhenia. We were entirely excited for it. We had no idea who was coming or what it will be like. Either way, we knew it would be great to just leave the college world and enter the unknown.
 
Zhenia’s parents were in florida and they gave her permission for this party. She is a tall gal with curly hair and sweetness written all over her smile. She is that kind of cool, where its okay to be a dork. She works in a biology lab in Harvard. Yes. She is that cool.
 
Of course with Russians, you tell them 10pm and they show up an hour later. Awkwardness was washed away by shots of vodka or tall glass filled with maroon Porto.
 
There were plenty of boys, and whoda thunk it, they were Russian. Standing in a room full of boys, I realized how little of boy exposure Ive had. The pheromones made me swoon.  
 
I tried to be the social creature. How does one do it? It takes so much energy to make good first impressions.
 
I ended up getting into an argument with the short boy in glasses. “I can find the negative in anything,” he said. And I replied with “Well, I can find the positive in anything!” And so for the rest of the party I would try to find something that he wouldn’t be able to find something negative in. Except he was filled with doomful thoughts.
 
“Pyramid schemes,” he said to me and I blinked back at him. What the hell is pyramid schemes? How am I supposed to find a positive in something I don’t know? Can I ask him what it is? Will he think of me stupid? It was quite the dilemma.
 
In all this, I realized my argumentative skills are rusty. I lost every battle. I have gotten too mushy and easy. Oh I wouldn’t want ugly things to happen, so Im just going to agree with you. What kind of wuss have I become? Ah! I need a debate partner. I need a duel of thoughts.
 
Eventually this argument between Eugene and I, spread to others. And a boy found the perfect thing. “DUCKS!” you cant find anything negative about ducks. Its perfect!
 
But in reality, what I should have told Eugene is that positive and negative is all relative. And we need to define the terms before we can say something is really a positive or a negative. It is the law of relativity.
 
Eugene had some special aura around him and I wanted to talk with him. Maybe its because I sensed that he was a jerk, and well I am attracted to jerks after all. He and I had a couple conversations and when he left, he didn’t even say goodbye. Not a wave. Not even one eye contact. He. Just. Left. Out. The. Door.
 
I wont chase after boys.
 
I did talk to an amazing girl. From first sight, I could tell that she is one of those beyond people. The ones that make you gasp with amazement. She so calmly talked about how she was in Buenos Aires, Beijing, Auckland, Germany etc etc etc. And I was. Just. Wow. Jealous. So jealous, my insides hurt. She is a linguist and is amazed by languages. She is traveling to teach in Russia for 10 months. Everyone called her crazy. “Youre not crazy,” I whispered in her ear. And I hope she believed me. She is brave and amazing and wonderful.
 
Her boyfriend ran into the room. “Someone just told me that I look like Harry Potter! Ah! If another person calls me that, I swear…” And then we proceeded to talk about how he is the perfect Harry Potter who has been dispelled from Grifindor and has given up on shaving and is continuing a life of drugs and alcohol. And the boy really did look like Harry Potter. I swear.
 
There were 3 guitars and lots of singing and dancing too. It is the Russian thing to have songs at parties. It is a bonding experience. Music brings everyone together.
 
And I guess alcohol brings everyone together too. People were properly intoxicated. I stuck to drinking my Imodium. Yeah. Im trying to find the positive in having stomach aches. I learn all about the different kind of bathrooms that people have in this world. I learn the wonderful challenge of having a conversation and trying to escape it to run to the bathroom. Its quite funny, I tell you.
 
About Old People:
 
I volunteer in a group called Generations. Once a month, we go to visit Coleman House. Which is a house for senior living. We sit behind tables, and talk with the old folks, over orange juice and a bagel.
 
It is the most incredible and exhilarating and fun experience.
 
There was a lady who hated her name. Her real name is Evelyn and throughout the years, she has changed the way to say it. Right now, she is going by Lin. She loved my name though. Who knows, maybe next time we meet, she will be an Elina too.
 
With another lady, I talked about the secrets of making soup. She was amazed that I could cook Borsht from scratch and boil the beets even. She told me how to make chicken soup without the chicken and fool everyone into thinking that it really was made out of chicken.
 
A petite thin woman told me that I have to read a book called “Not Me” and she even neatly wrote it on a piece of napkin and handed it to me. She gave us a tour of her room, which was just so cute and clean. In whispers she revealed that she holds cocktail parties. “There is this one woman who is 89 and oh my! She drinks like a fish!” And I imagined a room full of old ladies giggling with their martinis and I giggled too. [I want to host cocktail parties when I am 90]
 
There was a guy by the name of Phil who said he had huge collection of jazz cds. The number was so large, I can barely remember it now. When he heard that my favorite hobby is writing, he quickly told me “Oh my son is an accountant and now he wants to quit his job to write a novel or two. I am pushing him to do it.” And I smiled oh so wide.
 
There was a woman with short gray hair that I had an intent conversation about in terms of decisions in life. I asked her what she wanted to be when she was younger and did she do it. “I never had many ambitions.” She got married around age 20. And then she kept talking about her husband’s job. I had to ask her. “What about your job?” And she calmly stated how she was a bookkeeper. “It was simple but I loved it. It kept me busy.” And it was amazing to sit next to this woman and hear how career choices are nothing in the big scheme of things. Or maybe she was raised in an age where career choices were limited and if she had ambition, would it have been worth it?
 
At one point, I was talking to one of the Brandeis kids and I asked about Jean and Al. They were my favorite couple. They made me smile. They were that kind of couple that made you think, “Yes, love really does exist. And it can last forever.” I was informed that Al passed away this February. I almost cried. I started to regret how I didn’t see him all of last year. How could I not? We are not permanent.
 
About the Present:
 
I am entirely too busy. Classes and lab and thesis and responsibilities galore.
 
I got cds. The Squirrel Nut Zippers are amazing. And so is Sia. Check them out, yo.
 
I cant believe its November. I was going to do Nanowrimo. You know, the whole 500,000 in a month. But I remember that I have to write my neuroscience thesis. Cant really write a novel and a thesis all in one month.
 
However, I can do NoJoMo. And you betcha, I am doing it. An entry every day. It will give you guys a chance to get to know me better. Im also going to try to go an extra step and say I will post a journal entry with a picture. Every day. Are you excited? But please expect plenty of silly weirdness that probably wont make any sense anyways.
 
I got a haircut and its short and I like it. It was cut so short people noticed. And people were stunned that my mom did it. Yeah go mom!
 
My house back in providence has a newly built balcony. Every night when I talk to my mom she tells me that I just have to come visit and see it. And I am dying to see it. I told her that she may have to put a lock on it so I wont be inclined to sleep out on the balcony. My brother said there was one definite rule. We are not allowed to dry our underwear or nightgowns on the balcony. I told my mom how when I was in Odessa, one of the things that I loved doing was stepping out on my 12th floor balcony as soon as I woke up and stretching my arms and yawning in my nightgown and whispering “Hello world” to the zooming cars and small buildings. “Well if you do it here, all of Hope street will say hello back,” she laughed back.
 
Best time to do laundry is on Monday mornings. I OWNED the three laundry machines. Bwahaha.
 
It is 10pm and I don’t know how I will find time to read a chapter in my cognitive neuro book, do some Russian exercises and read papers for my thesis. I wish I could travel back in time. Can it be 6pm? Please?